Mommy's Little Girl
by InMyOwnWords
Summary: There were those days he could never feel normal, but he tried for Seamus.A little collection of drabbles about Dean's childhood and experiences at Hogwarts
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: There were those days he could never feel normal, but he tried for Seamus.**

**A little collection of drabbles about Dean's childhood and experiences at Hogwarts**

**Warnings: Abuse, self mutilation, cross dressing, slash**

**I own nothing.  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

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><p>It wasn't until he was eleven years old did Dean know that his childhood hadn't been normal. He'd been home schooled for as long as he could remember and he noticed that his lessons were different from his brothers'. His mother would dress him up in gorgeous dresses, long, short, lots of crinoline and taffeta, or just a simple silk dress. She would make him up, call him pretty, tell him that he was her little girl, the little girl she'd never get.<p>

After birthing five boys Mrs. Thomas gave up on trying for a daughter and did the next best thing, she dressed up her already effeminate son and called him 'Deana'. Her husband caught them one time and she made it seem as though Dean had put on the get up himself.

From that night on Mr. Thomas began to dislike the boy that he'd graciously adopted when he married his mother. Dean was nothing to him and every time he caught him wearing make-up, or even a small sock with the delicate pink bows, he was beaten.

Dean thought it all was normal.

On his eleventh birthday Dean was presented with a letter and a visit from a rather stern looking fellow with long greasy black hair. The man caught Dean in a dress, blanched, and remembered why he hated coming to muggle households.

Dean had only seen disgust in one person's eyes when he was dressed like that and that was his step father. He wondered if this man was here to beat him also. Instead the man explained to Dean that he was a wizard and shoved a list of things he needed along with a set of instructions and promptly high tailed it out of the small flat. He was disgusted at the way muggles treated their children, and now knew why muggles committed crimes against their parents or other people.

"You can't go, I need my little girl around." His mother pleaded.

His step father watched his wife say her goodbyes to Dean from afar. He was glad to see the little freak leaving, and he hoped that none of his boys had been influenced by him.

"Mommy I'll be back for Christmas break, I promise." Dean smiled as he walked away from his mother.

Mrs. Thomas bit her lip and nodded while clutching a satin pink bow in her left hand. Her little girl was leaving her and their was nothing she could do about it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary: There were those days he could never feel normal, but he tried for Seamus.**

**A little collection of drabbles about Dean's childhood and experiences at Hogwarts**

**Warnings: Abuse, self mutilation, cross dressing, slash**

**I own nothing.  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

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><p>A short Irish boy with a knack for blowing things up told Dean that his life wasn't normal. The greasy haired man with the long black cloak gave Dean a look for disgust when he entered his classroom. Mrs. Thomas sent her son a letter telling him that she 'missed her little girl'. And Dean? Well, Dean as torn.<p>

He didn't go back home for Christmas break, much to the dismay of his mother, but he needed to think. He thought about the soft pretty dresses and the way his mother would coo and coddle him. He thought about his step father's stern face glaring at him, beating him, cursing at him. He thought about his brothers and wondered which one was caught wearing the dress this time. Which boy was 'mommy's little girl' in his absence?

Summer break rolled around and Dean found himself still reluctant to go home. "You must want to see your mum." Neville whispered to him on the train.

Seamus frowned. "I mean, I'd love to be able to go home to my mum." Neville said, chuckling nervously.

"Dean you can stay with me, me mam knows all about ye from me letters." Seamus suggested, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Why can't Dean go home?" Neville asked, completely out of the loop.

"Dean's mother isn't fit to raise children, that's why!" Seamus exclaimed.

"Don't talk about my mum like that Shey, she's still my mum...I still love her." Dean sighed.

Seamus frowned and looked at his best friend, "You can still stay with me and play football with me and me da."

Dean sat back and looked through the window of the train compartment, he saw that they were pulling into Kings Cross Station and let out a deep breath. "I can't do that to mum. Maybe next summer mate." He said.

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><p>Mrs. Thomas spotted Dean first and ran over to her first born, engulfing him into a hug. The first thing he noticed was that he'd grown about two inches and was losing the baby fat from his cheeks and stomach. "Hello mum." he'd smiled.<p>

His voice was beginning to deepen and Mrs. Thomas had no choice but to accept the fact that her little girl...no her little boy was growing up. She stepped away from him, with a frown on her face as she realized that he could no longer be her little Deana, the dresses would no longer look right on his body. Hair would start growing on his legs, face, and arms, he would be tall, his father had been 6"4 and Mrs. Thomas was 5"9 herself, he would go through an awkward stage where his voice would betray him at times and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Mrs. Thomas was sick, but she wasn't suck enough to give her son estrogen in order to keep him her little girl forever.

"I'm sorry I didn't come back for Christmas, I needed time to think." He said, as they walked through the train station.

"It's fine Dean." Mrs. Thomas said with a tight lipped smile.

Dean noticed how strange his mother was acting and briefly wondered exactly how upset she was over his absence at Christmas. "You're really mad at me." He whispered.

"There was a new red dress waiting for you and a few dolls. I had to donate them to the homeless shelter because of your father." She frowned.

"He's not my father." Dean muttered.

The slap echoed through the train station and left a small cut from Mrs. Thomas' nails. "He raised you...he...he was good to you, even when he caught you parading around in drag.." She hissed.

"But you..." His voice trailed off and he looked away.

"You're lucky you're still living with us, you're a bad example for your brothers, you are."

Dean said nothing until he was on the train for Hogwarts for the next school year.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary: There were those days he could never feel normal, but he tried for Seamus.**

**A little collection of drabbles about Dean's childhood and experiences at Hogwarts**

**Warnings: Abuse, self mutilation, cross dressing, slash**

**I own nothing.  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Third year made Dean realize that he was never going to be normal again, the horizontal lines on his legs and arms told him that. His mother found a new little girl, his younger brother Jesse was now Jessica whenever their father wasn't around and Dean became the black sheep of the family. As much as he hated to admit it, Dean still loved the feel of those dresses and he loved how much attention his mother gave him when he was Deana.<p>

He hated the confused feeling at all left him with. He hated the confused look on Jesse's face when his mother would call him Jessica and put bows in his curly brown hair. He hated his mother. He hated his step-father. He hated himself.

Summers at home forced Dean to witness exactly what had happened to him when he was younger. He was forced to call Jesse, Jessica, and refer to him as his little sister. Dean once caught Jesse spinning around the room in the little blue dress he was wearing giggling wildly, when he saw his little brother fall to the floor he rushed over to him and saw the bleary eyes associated with being drunk. His mother claimed he'd gotten into the liquor cabinet and went back to playing with 'her little girl'. Dean wondered briefly if he'd 'gotten into the liquor cabinet' when he was younger. He noticed how more willing Jesse was to play dress-up while under the influence. Jesse was only eleven. His mother sick.

Dean's mother seemed to dislike Dean even more now that puberty was really taking a toll on him. He was getting to be taller than her, his voice had completely deepened, and peach fuzz had begun to settle over his top lip. She didn't seem to realize what her and her husbands neglect was doing to her eldest son, she didn't notice the scars on his arms or the bloody tissues in the bathroom, and if she did she didn't acknowledge it.

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><p>"It's Jesse's birthday, I want to send him something." Dean told Seamus while they sat in the Gryffindor common room.<p>

"Ye should draw him a picture," Seamus said, "The stuff you draw is amazing." He smiled.

"I suppose I should, he's turning thirteen it should be something big." Dean murmured.

"What's so good about turning thirteen?"

"He's a teenager now, I suppose it's different around here. Turning eleven and seventeen must be the big thing." Dean said as he pulled out the drawing charcoal he kept on him at all times.

"Thirteen is an unlucky number." Seamus pointed out.

"Not in our house." Dean muttered.

Seamus glanced warily at his best friend and frowned, "Is she...is she still doing _that_." He asked.

"Not to me, to Jesse. But he should be going through puberty same thing that made her completely ignore me. The twins are fourteen, they're too old for her and they were always to rough to be her 'daughters'. Jesse and I were her only targets but now she won't be able to mess with him." Dean explained.

"So thirteen is your lucky number. Oy, things are so twisted in the muggle world." Seamus muttered.

"It's just the people in the muggle world that are twisted. Just the people." Dean sighed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary: There were those days he could never feel normal, but he tried for Seamus.**

**A little collection of drabbles about Dean's childhood and experiences at Hogwarts**

**Warnings: Abuse, self mutilation, cross dressing, slash**

**I own nothing.  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

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><p>In the middle of fourth year, Dean was called to Dumbledore's office. He was confused as to why he was being called in there, he hadn't done anything wrong, he didn't go after trolls in the bathroom, or giant spiders in the forbidden forest. He occasionally took light night trips with Seamus to the kitchens, but that was about it, there was nothing that called for a trip to the headmaster.<p>

He slowly walked into the headmaster's office and waited for Dumbledore to look up and acknowledge him. "Sit Mr. Thomas." The headmaster said.

Dean sat in the chair in front of the professor's desk and waited for him to speak. "An owl came to the school for you, I wondered why it didn't go directly to you. Your mother left specific instruction that the letter come to the headmaster of the school so that I could...better explain to you what happened."

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not liking where this conversation was going. "What happened?" He asked quietly.

Dumbledore let out a sigh, "Your brother took his life two days ago. Professor Sinestra will escort you to your home. You'll be allowed to stay as long as you need to...given the circumstances..."

"How did he do it?" Dean asked.

"Mr. Thomas your mother specifically told me not to give you those details."

"Forget her, forget what she says. Tell me how he did it." Dean hissed.

"I think it's better if your mother tells you." The headmaster sighed.

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><p>"This is his fault Allison, I don't want him in my house anymore!"<p>

"I can't do that to him John, I can't lose my little..." Allison Thomas' voice trailed off and she sighed.

"Jesse was parading around in little girls clothes like Dean used to and it confused him so damn much he committed suicide. I don't want him here anymore, he could influence the twins to do something like this! How dare he come to the funeral! How dare he even come into this house!" John yelled.

Dean sat in his room trying to tune out his parents arguing. Dean tried to tune out his brothers arguing over who got Jesse's room. Dean tried to tune out the dangerous thoughts running through his head, but he couldn't. He clawed at his arms, trying to distract himself from the loud voices in the house. He bit his lip, and glanced at the bedside table that housed his best friend, his safety, his life. He crawled over to the the table' opened the drawer' and pulled a silver razor blade out. He stared at the blade for almost an hour before he began to add to the scars already marring his chocolate skin. He shuddered as the blade slid across his flesh, but it tuned everything out. He was so focused on the pain he could no longer hear the arguments going on in the house. A smile began to tug at the corner of his lips, this was for Jesse, this was for peace, this was for his sanity.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary: There were those days he could never feel normal, but he tried for Seamus.**

**A little collection of drabbles about Dean's childhood and experiences at Hogwarts**

**Warnings: Abuse, self mutilation, cross dressing, slash**

**I own nothing.  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Fifth year found Dean questioning everything about himself. Seamus tried to be there for his friend but he had no idea how to comfort him. He knew he couldn't provide the closure Dean needed, but he tried his best to make sure Dean was content, but deep down he knew his best friend would never be happy.<p>

"This is nice." Seamus whispered.

Dean stared at the lone candle floating across Hogwarts Lake and smiled softly. "He would've turned fifteen today." he sighed.

Seamus didn't like the way Dean looked nowadays. The sad, defeated look on his best friend's face made him think he was going to try to join Jesse one day. He hoped to Merlin that his best friend wasn't stupid enough to do such a thing. Seamus knew Dean was hurting, and he wanted nothing more than to make it all better but he knew his love was only half of what Dean needed to heal from what he'd gone through in his childhood and what he was going through now.

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><p><em>"We're having a tea party Deana, won't that be fun?" Mrs. Thomas giggled as she sat down at the kitchen table.<em>

_Across from her sat her seven-year-old son Dean, dressed in a blue taffeta dress. Tears ran down his chubby, brown cheeks, and large purple bruises were visible on his arms. "Doesn't that sound fun?" His mother asked again, through clenched teeth._

_"Yes mummy." Dean whispered._

_"Now, now why is mummy's little girl crying?" She asked as she picked up a napkin and wiped the child's tears._

_She frowned and put the napkin down, "I know what you want." She smiled._

_Mrs. Thomas poured a cup of tea and pushed it towards her son. Dean looked at it with a fearful expression and but his lip. "Go ahead." _

_Dean picked up the tea cup and put it up to his lips, the taste repulsed him and made him gag. "Drink up sweetheart." Mrs. Thomas smiled._

_"But mummy…" Dean started._

_One look was all Dean needed to down in the drink in one gulp. The bitter liquid burned his throat and caused his eyes to water, but he knew that if he didn't his mother would inflict more pain on him later. It wasn't long before the effects of the alcohol began to take over and the small seven year old boy twirled around the living room asking his mother for more. "Can we play tea party more mommy?"_

_"Yes sweetheart, yes we can."_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary: There were those days he could never feel normal, but he tried for Seamus.**

**A little collection of drabbles about Dean's childhood and experiences at Hogwarts**

**Warnings: Abuse, self mutilation, cross dressing, slash**

**I own nothing.  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"Dean! Dean! Wake up!"<p>

Dean sat up in his four poster with sweat pouring down his face and his chest heaving, he looked to his left and saw Seamus' face peeking through the curtains. "Ye were havin' a bit of a bad dream there...decided I'd wake ye for ye said anythin'." The Irishman whispered.

Dean stared at his best friend before lunging forward and wrapping his arms around his small frame and whispering 'thank yous' in his ear. "Not that big of a deal mate, s'what friends do I s'pose." Seamus muttered, awkwardly wrapping his arms around Dean's thin shoulders.

"No...no Seamus, you're...you're always there." Deam murmured.

"Will you two poufs shut up! There are people trying to sleep here!" Ron hissed from his four poster.

"Shut up you bloody prat, Dean isn't feeling well." Seamus hissed back.

The smaller teen crawled into Dean's bed and drew the curtains closed, he whispered a silencing charm before settling on the bed. He looked up at his best friend and saw that he was almost hysterical; he was breathing heavily as tears slipped down his cheeks, and muttering unintelligible things. "Dean, Dean! Calm down!" Seamus said, shaking his friend.

Seamus didn't know how to handle situations like this, he'd never seen Dean cry before. Sure he knew all about his friend's issues at home, but he'd never once seen Dean shed tears over it, not even when his brother died. So Seamus helped Dean lay back down, wrapped his arms around him and told him that everything was going to be okay.

Dean stopped crying.


End file.
